


Your Path Is What You Make Of It

by donutsweeper



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 15:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John never thought things would be this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Path Is What You Make Of It

  
_"The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time."_   
**Abraham Lincoln**   


* * *

Sometimes, John Watson looked towards his future. He would look at the paths he had taken, and the ones yet to come, and peer through the haze, trying to see where he might end up. What kind of life would that be for him? A happy one? Successful? One to keep or one to avoid?

Sometimes, he guessed wrong. The idea of being shot and invalided out of the army had never crossed his mind. He'd imagined being career army, in for the long haul, and expected that he would visit places far and wide: Afghanistan, Iraq, Gibraltar, maybe even a base in England itself. He had considered the possibility of being killed, not something he'd hoped would happen, of course, but dying while serving one's country was not the worst way to go.

Sometimes, he looked back, wondering how he got to where he was today. Just how did the decisions he'd made days, weeks, years or even decades ago result in the here and now? What if he'd chosen to join the Navy instead of the Army? Or to become a veterinarian instead of a doctor? What if he hadn't met Mike in the park that day? How many steps and missteps determined his current path? Was it the right one?

Sometimes, on days like today, he had to laugh. Never once had he considered being kidnapped by smugglers as a possibility of something that might happen to him. Nor had he ever thought he might see the day when Sherlock hovered and made tea and even offered to fluff John's pillow (his _pillow_ for heaven's sake) while he murmured about concussions and finding graffiti in the empty flat.

No, John could never have predicted his life would have turned out the way it had. But, John thought as he watched as Sherlock did the washing up while the tea steeped, he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
